


Seven Days a Week

by bookworm03



Series: The First Lady [3]
Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Politics, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, First Lady AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 22:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11171202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookworm03/pseuds/bookworm03
Summary: It hits Ben like a bag of bricks then, and for a moment he thinks maybe the wind did get knocked out of him. Ben’s done. He’s so, so done. First Lady AU.





	Seven Days a Week

**Author's Note:**

> Another instalment of this! Thank you so much for reading and commenting, you guys are amazing and I hope you enjoy! <3 
> 
> Also, big thank you to c00kie who talked to the 18 different versions of this story with me and helped me get it all work out. You are a treasure <3

They’re kissing on a Sunday.

He’s in the president’s bedroom, _her_ bedroom, and they’re stretched out on a small grey loveseat and kissing. Her lips are red and plump and her eyes are glassy and Ben thinks he could happily stay here forever.

The president’s in Delaware, on the campaign trail. Tomorrow he will be back and take his wife and daughter to South Carolina for some rallies, and then it will be on to Florida. Because no presidential election campaign would be complete without the potential for an upset in Ohio or Florida…

But for now they’re in their bubble. Leslie tastes like the cinnamon bun she’s just eaten and her waist fits perfectly in his hand. Nothing else matters.

Ben’s distracted by just being with her, so it takes Leslie a few seconds to push him off. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when he hears her phone. She slips out from under him, slides a hand through her hair and answers.

She always does this, smooths out her hair before she answer his phone call. It’s as if she’s trying to smooth away what they were just doing.

“Hey.” Her voice is light and cheerful. It makes Ben’s stomach twist. “How’s Delaware?”

It hits Ben like a bag of bricks then, and for a moment he thinks maybe the wind did get knocked out of him. Their previous conversation flashes through his mind. The one about how she can’t end her marriage now, when Ed’s being reelected.

If Ed wins, she won’t end her marriage for four more years. Ben knows this. As much as he wants to believe it’s not true, he knows better. She’s not leaving her husband for him; nothing in their marriage is bad enough to make Leslie walk away and be the black mark on his presidency.

Leslie hangs up with a sweet, “safe flight, I love you, see you tomorrow” and it’s as if the fog has lifted. Ben’s done.

He’s so, so done.

“Sorry.” She steps towards him and winds her arms around his neck. He flinches and Leslie's expression changes. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t.”

She starts to say something about helping him out with that, her gaze darting mischievously to the front of his pants, but they both know what he really means. The brightness behind her eyes fades and her lips turn down. He reaches out and touches a curl.

He’s more angry at the situation than at her, but he needs more. He can’t do this.

“Ben.”

“Four more years.”

“If he wins.”

“And I can’t do four more months of this.” He snaps suddenly and takes a step back. “You have a family and i don’t even know what I am to you, Leslie.”

Tears flood her eyes, but he keeps going.

“Are you doing this because you care about me or because I’m just here…” he gestures angrily around the room. “Or because when we were in high school we had a night together and it’s just that easy?”

Was she fucking him for the nostalgia of it? Was he doing the same? His head’s spinning and the sharp lines of the room are starting to blur. He needs air. He needs to get out of there.

He needs to not be around her.

“I have to go.”

“Ben…”

He leaves without looking at her. It’s the only way he can.  

*****

They change his post fairly quickly. He meets with Carmichael, who’s very disappointed in the request and asks if it was something he said or did. Ben keeps his answer as vague as possible, his eyes finding the picture of Ed, Leslie and Sophie that sits on the mantle in the corner. He arrives for desk duty first thing Monday morning and stares at the stacks of reports that need doing for a long time before slumping into his new chair.

The reports are easy, so they give his mind time to wander. He thinks about President Edward Carmichael who’s obviously the better man. He’s everything Ben’s not.

Which makes Ben resent the hell out of him.

The news is torture. As it gets closer and closer to the first week of November, everything he sees on TV features the election. It’s Leslie in Indiana, giving an impassioned speech about how her husband is the best choice for America that makes Ben throw the remote across the room.

He sticks to movies after that.

His first visitor in weeks comes on a Wednesday. He expects it to be Chris, just off his most recent shift at the White House, but it’s not. It’s Sophie Knope. Leslie’s eyes stare back at him and Sophie’s long brown hair is flowing in loose waves around her face.

She takes off her raincoat without asking, revealing a cropped t-shirt and ripped jeans. Her fingernails are bright green. The press would have a field day if they saw her dressed like that.

He starts to ask how she got here, but trails off when he sees her jaw set.

“I came to talk to you.”

“Where’s Andy?”

She kicks the door shut and glares at him.

“Don’t worry about it. I came to talk to you. It’s important.”

Ben sighs, turns on his heel and moves swiftly into the kitchen. To buy himself some time, he pours them both a glass of water. Sophie slides onto a stool. Whatever was bubbling up inside her seems to deflate. There’s a heavy silence between them, the rain pattering on his windows almost deafening in contrast.

“I heard Mom crying.”

“She does that sometimes.” It sounds cold even to his own ears. But Leslie being sad isn’t his job to fix.

“Don’t be a jerk.” Sophie’s blue eyes flash. “She didn’t tell me why and she always tells me why. It’s different.”

Ben takes a sip from his glass.

“What does that have to do with you being here?”

“Are you my father?”

Ben nearly chokes on his tongue. He says nothing as he tries to think of how to answer her, of how Leslie would want him to answer her. Sophie takes that as her cue to keep talking.

“You hum the same song. That R.E.M. song, when you think no one’s paying attention. Mom...she does the same thing and she’s always singing it like it never got out of her head and...I think it makes her think of him. And she’s singing it a lot more now.”  

He scrubs a hand over his face. He knows what song she means. _Star Me Kitten_ , the one playing in his car that night. He’d practically burned a hole in his Automatic for the People album that semester.

 _"Put on some music_ ” Leslie had said with an excited giggle, minutes before their lips met for the second time.

Ben shakes his head to come back to the present.

“You should talk to your mom.”

“Just tell me, please.”

He should not be having this conversation with her, but he’s also really tired of lying to his daughter.

“Yes.”

Sophie starts to cry. Instantly, like a thread snapped and with it the last rein on her emotions. Ben wants to reach for her but he’s not sure he should. He’s never fucking sure what to do anymore. His instincts are shot because he can’t ever seem to act on them.

“Soph.”

“Why did you leave us?” She asks through her sobs. Ben’s throat tightens.

“I...I didn’t. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know.” Then he does reach out and touch her cheek. “Soph, if I’d known…”  

She jerks away from him as she stands and swipes at her face. Ben walks around the counter, but Sophie’s already making a beeline for the door. It slams behind her. Ben rushes into the hallway just in time to see Sophie step onto the elevator with Andy.  

Andy gives him a sad smile as the doors close in Ben’s face.

Sophie’s fifteen and she wanted to know the truth, sure, but she doesn’t need him. Neither of them ever did.

Ben doesn’t go after her.

*****

Edward Carmichael wins on the Tuesday.

10:43pm EST.

It’s swift and painless. Some of the news outlets started announcing the win sooner, but at 10:43pm the opposition finally relents. It’s over. Four more years of Carmichael, the voice of a new generation.

Some political commentators talk about the Republican candidate’s high unemployment levels in his own state being his downfall. Some say it was his lack of experience in foreign policy and others, his complete lack of charisma.

And one says it was his wife. Or rather, Carmichael’s wife, that tipped the scales.

 _The perfect modern first lady_ , they labelled her. Enough sense of when to stay out of the conversation and enough intelligence and passion to dive in when she felt the need. Ben watches her stand in the background while Carmichael speaks, Sophie’s hand neatly in hers.

And then he drinks a lot of liquor and goes to bed.

***** 

He decides to leave on a Thursday.

He calls up his old CO, gets put in touch with a few people and ends up with a special assignment in Afghanistan. He can’t be in DC anymore. The first family will be on the news daily and Leslie will travel around the world giving speeches and Ben needs to be as far removed from that as possible.

He considers calling Sophie, but what exactly would that be to say?

And Leslie made her decision a long time ago.

*****

He leaves on a Friday, the second week of February, after the President has held his first state dinner of the new term. Ben recalls seeing a photo of Leslie and Carmichael on the TV greeting the Mexican president and his wife.

It’s all he’s seen of her since the election.

He packs light and carries his duffel bag as he strolls through the airport. They almost had him on a military transport, but he would’ve had to wait another three days to go anywhere and Ben didn’t want to wait. There was nothing he was waiting for.

It’s cold, especially for DC, but he doesn’t both with a jacket. He’ll have no use for a jacket where he’s going.  A few people shoot him a cursory glance, the tattoos on his forearm making him look for dangerous than he’s ever really felt. He’s a numbers guy, not a soldier. Ben’s spent most of his adult life wondering how he ended up here.

He sits at the gate and plays Candy Crush on his phone for a few minutes. It’s boring, he’s beat all the current levels, so he switches to a podcast he’d been saving for the flight. Twenty minutes pass with Ben in another world. This section of Dulles is relatively empty that morning, so it takes him a while to pick up on the commotion. He fails to notice that the only two other people sitting in the vicinity left at the same time, as did the gate agents.

Ben takes out his headphones and looks up. He sees instantly what happened. Secret Service secured the area. The president is here. Carmichael found out - perhaps Leslie told him - and he’s about to be arrested (because sleeping with the president’s wife can probably get you arrested).

He sees Chris turn a corner first, in his dark suit, striding forward in unison with two other men.

She’s tiny, so Ben doesn’t notice her right away. But she’s there. She’s wearing red and her hair’s curling around her shoulders. Her face is twisted in a frown. The president’s nowhere to be seen.

“Um. Excuse me _Agent Wyatt_!” She shouts across the room. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?"

Ben stands, the back of his neck feeling hot. On this bitterly cold DC day, she’s the only thing that somehow burns.

“Afghanistan.” He says simply. Leslie picks up her pace until she’s five feet in front of him. She folds her arms across her chest and glares.

“Like hell you are.”

“It’s not your decision, Madam First Lady - ”

"It’s a covert ops mission with a high probability of failure and you’re not going, buddy. Do you hear me?”

“Your husband would say otherwise.”

“Well he’s not my husband anymore, so I don’t care what he says!”

Ben drops his phone, headphones tangling at his feet. Leslie’s eyes start to glisten.

“What?”

“Well, if you watched the news you would know. Everyone else in the world does. We’re getting separated. We announced it two days ago.”

She left him.

Chris comes up beside them and apologetically whispers they can only keep the public out for so long. Leslie waves him off.

“He’s just worried because there’s been a couple of death threats from disgruntled supporters - ”

“ _Death threats_?”

“Apparently I didn’t know how good I had it and I broke up our family and disgraced the country. It’s not important.” Leslie shrugs that off too. Her eyes are sparkling; she’s still on the brink of tears. Ben steps closer and she shakes her head quickly. He stops.

“We can’t here.” She purses her lips tightly. “Don’t go to Afghanistan.”

“I’ll call them.”

“Because I can’t take you leaving us again, Benjamin - ”

“I won’t go. I’ll stay here with you.”

She exhales a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Chris clears his throat.

“Where’s Sophie?” Ben ignores him.

“With my parents. I’m going there now. I needed her to be removed from it. We made arrangements with the school and got a tutor so it’s fine.”

Her preparedness makes Ben smile.

“How is she?”

“Sad. But she understands.”

There’s the flash of a camera and Ben whirls in time to see one of the agents descend on the spectator, who turns very pale. Ben imagines he’s being asked to delete the photo of them. One person is okay, but Chris is right, they won’t be able to contain this for much longer.

He can’t kiss her. He can’t even touch her a little. Not here.

“We should talk more.”

“Yes.” He’s done talking. “Meet me at my place.” She wipes her cheeks. When did she start crying? “I don’t even know where you live.”

“Chris does.”

Leslie wipes her face again and nods. “I’ll see you there.”

And then they’re gone, just as quickly as they appeared.

He calls his contact from the cab.

*****

He sees her detail circling the block as he pulls up to his building. He throws too much money at the cab driver and hops out, choosing the stairs over the elevators that take way too long anyway. He reaches the sixth floor a little out of breath and opens his unit. The door’s unlocked and Leslie’s sitting on his sofa. Chris is standing beside her.

“Hey.” She smiles. Ben drops his bag.  

“Hi. Chris, get out.”

“Rick’s in the bedroom.”

“Rick, also get out.”

Leslie stands, hands trembling visibly now. It seems to take an eternity for the apartment empty.

And then the door closes.

Ben expects to have to move first or at least say something, but Leslie jumps, kissing him so hard his lips feel bruised. She tugs on his hair and he opens her mouth with an easy flick of his tongue and bites.

She moans, and their lips stay connected as he carries her to the bedroom.

Later, when they’re both exhausted and she’s wrapped up in his dark sheets, he will spend the first night of his entire life with Leslie in his bed.

Later, though.

Right now he’s content to kiss her until she can’t breathe.

And Ben feels like he can finally breathe again. 


End file.
